Hell is a Road
by Moe Riverside
Summary: Ezra finds himself alone on an unknown road in the middle of nowhere, while his teammates wonder where he is.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: This has been done before in some way shape or form, I'm sure. But it just came to me and I started writing. :-)

Summary: Ezra finds himself in the middle of nowhere on a road with no help, while his teammates are left wondering where he is.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Magnificent Seven, or the ATF AU.

At least he still had his shoes. He looked down to appreciate them, and frowned. Well, at least he still had one shoe. How had he not noticed that one was missing?

Now that he did notice it, his discomfort increased, suddenly his foot- the left one- throbbed. He cursed colorfully under his breath. He was going to have to buy new some new shoes when he got back, putting them on the agency account. Better shoes. Ones that didn't disappear without their owner's prior knowledge.

He shook his head to clear out such thoughts, as they made little actual sense. How _had_ he ended up here anyway? Ezra contemplated this for several minutes, hazy scenes flashing before his eyes. He struggled to make sense of them, but could not. With a sigh, he took in his surroundings again, the road showed no signs of life in either direction; so he limped on- desperately hoping to come across civilization really soon.

--

It was 10:00 on Monday morning and ATF team 7 was hard at work, filling out reports for the previous weeks arms dealer bust. The day had ended well; they had brought in Emilio Sanchez, who had evaded the law for the past four years selling arms to anyone who could pay more than everyone else.

With a tip from one of Ezra's contacts, they had trailed his number two guy to the warehouse and made the bust accordingly, bringing down 10 men in the process. They had parted ways sociably at The Saloon, turning in for the evening with short goodbye's and "See you on Monday" s.

Team 7 leader, Chris Larabee, looked up from his desk once more to take an unconscious headcount. J.D.: check. Josiah: check. Buck: yes. Vin: yes. Nathan: At his desk, working away. Ezra: Not at his desk. Not working away. And definitely not present. Where was he? It was driving Chris up the wall. Sure, it was not the first time that Ezra had come in late, but something about this time had him on edge. Things Friday had gone too well, and he figured something had to give eventually.

He tapped his finger on the edge of his keyboard. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

He eyed his phone, but did not pick it up.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

His hand twitched, but he restrained himself.

Tap. Tap. Tap…Tap.

"Just call him already!" Buck said in exasperation, although he too was worried about their missing companion. But his worry was not limited to Ezra; Chris was always hell to deal with when one of them was hurt, missing or late. It made him edgy and he tended to snap or lash out, it was how he dealt with his anxiety.

Team Seven was unlike most ATF teams, they were close. Too close, some would say. But they had never cared what others thought, they were a family. Not one of them had someone else to turn to, another family member to care for them. So it was not surprising that the group of men, ranging from the youngest member to the hardened leader, had become emotionally attached to each other, treating each of the others as a brother, or comrade in arms.

The only one of them who had something to set themselves apart from the group was its newest member, Ezra, who had been on the team for a little over seven months. Ezra did have a mother, and she was indeed alive. She seemed like a pleasant enough woman, from the few times he had met her. But Ezra did not spend much time with her, even spending his most recent holidays with his teammates rather than her. He acted like the rest of them, like he had no family. Larabee had never asked Ezra why he spent so little time with his mother, but he figured they would learn about it someday, when he was ready to share.

"Who?" Chris asked, pretending to be unaware of who his oldest friend was speaking of.

He heard a snort from Vin, and saw Nathan roll his eyes.

"Ezra," J.D. supplied. "But I'm sure he's just at home, sleeping or something."

"Brother Ezra does happen to come to work late quite a bit," Josiah added unhelpfully.

Chris clenched his jaw, this was all true. So why did he feel like something had gone horribly wrong?

Making a decision he picked up the phone, dialing Ezra's number from memory. He knew all of their numbers by heart, it came with the job. So did the constant worry and, he was convinced, the grey hairs he had found while looking in the mirror.

He waited while it rang, and hung up when he reached the machine. He then dialed Ezra's home number, also getting a machine. He stared at the empty desk for a moment, and then said, voice devoid of emotion, "Vin, Josiah, go to Ezra's place and make sure that he ain't just sleeping. Buck, call up the local LEOs and see if they've heard anything. J.D. trace his credit cards and cell phone for their last use. Nathan, check the hospitals."

The men knew better than to question Chris when his big brother/boss instincts kicked in, and yet, someone had to be the voice of reason.

"Don't you think that's invading Ez's privacy just a tiny bit?" Vin asked quizzically, preparing himself for a stare down.

"Better safe than sorry," Chris said back, his voice gravelly and tight.

Vin looked him straight in the eyes before nodding, "Ok, cowboy. We'll check it out."

Chris nodded, turning back to his report, eyes not really focusing as he waited for some good news.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own Mag7 or ATF. :-)

Note: Here's chapter two. :-)

"What I really wish I had on my person is a phone," he paused to consider this. "And my other shoe."

A few moments went by. "I wish I had a phone and a shoe."

His mind worked furiously to uncover the significance behind his thoughts.

"I wish I had a shoe phone!" he stated at last, with finality.

That was it; he was certain that once he found his way home, he would find a way to appropriate such an item, for occasions similar to this one.

Ezra could feel his cognitive abilities waning, what he really wanted, was to sleep. But it was damned cold, and he knew that lying down on the side of a road was not the best place to take a nap if one wished to stay healthy.

How was it that he had such luck to be marooned on the road from Hell? The road on which no one would ever come to his rescue. He wondered how long he had been walking, but shrugged it off with a sigh. What he wouldn't give for any kind of savior right now.

--

Things weren't looking up yet, and Chris could feel his anxiety growing stronger with every passing minute. It was now 2:00, and everyone had turned up empty handed. Nathan's report that Ezra wasn't in a hospital gave him a slight sense of hope, but that tiny hope had been crushed when Josiah had called to say that Ezra's car was not at his house and there was nobody at home.

Buck had come up empty with his calls to the LEOs and J.D. informed him that no calls or credit card uses had been made since before the group had parted ways on Friday.

He wasn't ready to declare his agent missing yet, given there was a small chance that Ezra had just gone off on his own for awhile; but the rational side of Chris informed him that Ezra would have called if this was the case.

He had resisted calling D.A. Travis and telling him about Standish's absence, but new that if the man didn't turn up soon he would have to.

The others had returned to the office, and were now favoring him with concerned glances as they attempted to do their own work, though worry for their friend was more than a little distracting.

When his phone rang, Chris nearly jumped, his hand darting out and grabbing it, "Larabee," he said into it gruffly.

He listened for a few moments, his expression darkening with each passing moment.

"When?" he asked.

Buck and Vin looked exchanged a look and waited for Chris to finish. J.D. watched curiously, feeling a touch of anxiety as he waited.

"Alright, we'll be right there," he set the phone down harshly. "We have to go."

Josiah frowned, "What is it Chris?"

Chris looked down, blinking rapidly to expel all the emotion from his face, before answering.

"The Denver PD found Ezra's Porsche in the lake last night; it took them until now to run the plates. They need us to come identify the body that was inside the car," his voice had cracked fractionally during the last part.

Complete silence met his revelation.

"So, Ez is…dead?" J.D. asked, not quite able to make the connection. Or maybe he just didn't want to.

"Looks that way," Chris said, not meeting anyone's eyes as he walked to the exit.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Don't own Mag7 or ATF. :-)

--

Once they reached the morgue, it took all the will J.D. had not to run in the other direction. He hated morgues, they made his skin crawl.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Josiah giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'll wait with you outside if you feel you can't go in brother," he said gently.

J.D. shook his head. No, he had to do this, for Ezra, and for himself.

"I'll be alright," he replied, giving his friend a grateful look.

Inside, Chris followed the detective back, telling the others that only one of them needed to go back.

The M.E. gave them a slight nod as he went over to the cold metal drawers that held the bodies. He pulled the correct one open and stood back, giving the men a chance to see for themselves.

Chris steeled himself and reached forward to pull back the sheet, feeling the bile rise in his throat as his senses were suddenly assaulted by an image too horrible to imagine.

He suddenly realized why they would need someone to identify the body, the face was smashed beyond recognition, nothing left of it really. The body was devoid of clothing, and in its naked state, it made it all the more real.

"Is it him?" the detective asked gently.

"I…I…yes," he murmured taking in the size and shape of the body. It was definitely Ezra shaped, and the hair was the right color.

"Ok," the man said with a nod, "Ok, that's it, thanks doc."

He felt like he was in a dream as he was led out of that room, Ezra was dead.

When the others saw him coming they all looked to him with hopeful expressions, he just shook his head, before sinking into a chair of the waiting room. He only half listened as the detective gave them details and asked questions. This couldn't be happening.

Ezra was part of his family, and had proven his loyalty to the team many times over. They had all just lost a brother, and it wasn't fair. He had only so recently come into their lives. Clenching his jaw, he refocused on the conversation. Whoever had done this_ would_ pay.

--

Finally, finally! Finally there was a car on the road. He raised his arms to flag it down, waving them around like a crazy man.

"Ah!" he cried in horror as it swished past him. His lip trembled.

Crying is bad, he told himself. Crying is really really bad. Don't cry.

He felt the familiar sting of tears. Shit. Oh what his mother would say if she could see him now. It would not be anything nice that was for sure.

He stumbled over a rock, crying out in agony as he felt a sharp pain in his foot. Unable to correct his balance, he did a face plant into the ground. He lay there for a few minutes.

"Why do the deities of this world frown upon me so?" he asked aloud.

He could feel the sticky warmth of blood running down his face. From where exactly, he wasn't sure. He tried to get up, but could not manage more than rolling over.

He could almost see the disapproving glare that his boss would be giving him right now. Ezra knew he had to get back to his friends, knew they had to be looking for him by now.

A year ago, no such thoughts would have occurred to him. He had had no family, no one to turn to, and definitely no one to count on. But ever since he had joined ATF team seven, he found that he had a home and a family to go along with it.

Despite the rumors of his disloyalty, the men had accepted him with open arms. They had made him understand his own self worth at a time when he was convinced he'd had none, and he felt as though he would be betraying a trust if he didn't return.

Well, as much as he wanted to appease his friends, he just didn't have the strength at the moment. Perhaps if he could just lay here for a few moments…

--

Chris finally understood why Ezra avoided his mother at all costs. It brought to mind the old saying "looks can be deceiving."

In the case of Maude Standish, this was certainly true. He had called the numbers listed in the file, and had reached a disconnected phone. It had taken another hour for J.D. to locate her through various means. And when he had gotten to speak to her, she had been insistent that he hurry things along, she had other things to do.

When he had told her of her sons death there had been a moments pause before, "Well, I can't say it's a surprise. He never was very good at taking care of himself, and wasting his god given talents in a place like that..."

What had really set him over the edge was her declaration that she would not be able to attend a funeral, as she was too far engaged in business deals to get away from Europe anytime soon.

It had taken some soothing words from Vin to keep him from taking his rage out on the phone. He would never have admitted it to anyone else, not even his oldest friend, but he was still shaken by the site of Ezra's cold dead body on the metal slab. Vin understood him, and because of this, he confided in his friend quite often.

He had sent everyone home for the night, as they were all too tired to do anything else. Buck and J.D. went home together, as they were roommates and neither in any state to be alone. Josiah and Nathan had left without a word, both deep in thought.

With some coaxing, Vin had gotten him to come home with him that night instead of driving all the way out to the ranch when he was so tired.

After a glass of whiskey, Chris had settled onto Vin's coach and fallen into an uneasy sleep, dreams of revenge on his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own Mag7 or ATF. :-)

--

"I've got a lov-el-ee bunch of Co-co-nuts," Ezra rasped, trying to keep himself awake, deliberately placing emphasis on the larger words.

He stopped because he didn't know the rest of the words, willing any other song to come to mind. None did, and he was stuck with just that line playing over and over in his head.

Night had long since fallen, and Ezra was freezing. He had not moved once, instead taken to observing his environment in case he ever had to tell anyone what Hell looked like. It was a long and narrow highway with tall grass and weeds on either side. Dust blew in the wind and there was no sign of life anywhere in the vicinity.

It was staggering to Ezra, not to be able to see anything around him. He swiveled his head around, looking behind him for any sign of light. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something that made his heart rate speed up significantly.

"It can't be," he drawled, squinting furiously. "But it sure looks like it."

In the distance, maybe two hundred feet from his position on the ground was what looked like a telephone booth. It was illuminated, and so he was unsure how he'd missed it.

"The fates are cruel," he murmured. Struggling to sit up, Ezra found himself considering how to get to what he was sure was a hallucination.

Gentlemen never crawl; he could hear his mother saying in his mind. Too bad, he mused. And then he began to drag himself toward the phantom phone booth.

--

Chris gasped sharply as his phone's shrill tone brought him back to consciousness. He looked at the number and did not recognize it. Frowning, he opened it and barked, "What?"

There were a few moments of silence. "Mr. Larabee?" an all too familiar voice asked.

He sat up straight, his breathing coming harsher, and he could here Vin stumbling in the room to check on him.

"Who is it?" his friend asked.

He repeated that sentiment sharply into the phone.

"Mr. Larabee, I am in need of some assistance," the voice stated weakly.

"Ezra!" he barked into the phone. "Ezra, where are you?"

There was silence again.

"Ezra!" he looked over at Vin, who was already on his phone, calling for a trace.

"I'm…in hell," was the reply he got, and it sent a cold shiver down his spine.

"Got it," Vin said to him, grabbing his keys and motioning for his Larabee to follow.

"We're coming for you Ez, hang on," he pleaded, his voice gentling.

"I shall endeavor to acquiesce, Mr. Larabee," Ezra answered with a cough.

Chris could hear the fast weakening struggle for the man on the other end to stay conscious. He looked over at Vin who was now driving like a madman, going 85 miles per hour in the 45 zone. He had to do something.

"It's Chris, Ezra, my name is Chris," he said suddenly.

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end. "I know that."

"Then why don't you call me by my name?" he asked.

--

Ezra had sunken to the ground, leaning against the pole, and holding onto the phone so he could hear Larabee talk.

Was any of this even real? Or was it some vivid hallucination he was having due to an onset of hypothermia or some crazy thing like that?

He heard Larabee ask him why he didn't call him by his first name.

"Because you're my boss," he answered with another cough.

"I'm also your friend," Larabee's voice answered.

Ezra felt his eyelids drooping, and he struggled to stay awake.

"Ezra! I need you to talk to me, Ezra, tell me how you're still alive? We thought you were dead?" the voice asked him persistently, keeping him awake when all he wanted to do was sleep.

Ezra furrowed his eyebrows, "Why would _I_ be dead?"

He heard a deep breath and waited his concern for his friend going. "What happened, is every..." he started coughing, "everything ok? Nobody hurt…right?"

"No, nobody hurt but you! Ezra, we found your car in the lake today, with a body inside, it looked just like you…" he could hear Chris's voice cracking.

"Well, I can assure you that I am alive…although I have no idea where…" he paused, "Did you say my _car_ was found in the lake? Is it alright?"

He heard a short laugh and then, "You would be worried about that damn car."

Ezra tried to come up with a response, but he was slowly losing the battle with consciousness. "Chris," was his last word as the darkness claimed him.

--

Vin looked over at his friend with concern, when he cursed.

"Damn it! He's not talking anymore!"

"We're almost there," Vin informed him, stepping on the gas, the sun was peaking over the edge of the horizon and he had the foreboding sense that there wasn't much time left for his wayward brother.

As they rounded they came upon the edge of the tree line, Vin saw a sight that made him crow with relief. "A phone booth!"

He slammed on the breaks, and Chris was out of the car before Vin could take the keys out of the ignition.

When he made it to Chris's side, his breath caught in his throat. The older man was cradling a figure in his arms. Upon closer inspection, he realized with growing horror that it was Ezra.

"Oh god; I'll call an ambulance," Vin murmured.

"No time!" Chris snapped, "We'll have to take him ourselves, call the hospital on the way."

Vin nodded, and opened the door for Chris before dialing the number for the hospital.

He gently scooped the younger man up, carrying him quickly to Vin's sedan, and climbing into the back seat to keep an eye on their younger friend.

As the vehicle began to move, Chris held on tightly to Ezra, looking down at him more closely now, taking stock of his injuries.

The southerner was a mass of bruises, and there was dried blood on his face, a cut on his forehead, and the man was unconsciously cradling his right forearm to his chest. Most of his clothing was shredded, and would definitely need replaced; this would probably delight the younger man.

If he lived, that was.

"He's gonna be fine," Vin said, as if he knew exactly what the other man was thinking.

"He had damn well better," Chris growled, his expression gentling as he looked back down to his man, "Ezra," he said softy, shaking him to get him awake.

The man groaned and blinked owlishly up at him, "My shoe," he grunted.

Larabee's eyebrows flew up, "Your shoe?" he asked in surprise, his eyes darting down to the man's feet.

"Damn," he whispered as he saw the shoeless foot that was torn to shreds and bleeding profusely.

Vin's eyes darted to his rear view mirror and Chris met them, a grim look in his eyes. "Better hurry."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: This is an in between chapter, you know, the ones that lead up to all the answers? The rest is coming I promise :-) I like to get it all together before posting, but I thought I'd post this chapter. Also, I wanted to thank all of you who reviewed this story right away! Thank you for all of your nice reviews.**

**Also, while I'm thinking about it, I'm in the midst of another story and I'm going to post the first couple chapters to see what you all think. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Magnificent Seven. :-(**

**-**

It was late Tuesday by the time that everyone had been called and assembled at the hospital. Chris was pacing the halls waiting for the doctor to come out and tell them how Ezra was when Buck, Nathan, Josiah, and JD arrived.

"How is he?" Nathan asked, already in full medic mode.

"Don't know yet," Vin answered for his friend, as he wasn't sure Chris could even speak.

"How is he still alive, I thought you said that body was his!" JD said, confusion showing through.

Chris shook his head, struggling for words. He felt Vin's hand on his shoulder and gave his best friend a thankful glance before saying, "I have no idea, all I know is it looked like Ezra. I guess it wasn't, I should have made them run the tests to be sure, the face was pretty much gone. I don't know how he's alive or what the hell happened, but when I find out, there will be hell to pay."

"Did brother Ezra say anything at all about what happened?" Josiah inquired.

"No, by the time we found him he was freezing to death and near hysterical, only really cared about his shoe being gone," Chris said, a tight smile on his lips.

"He'll be fine," Buck said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. He had to be fine, who else would Buck play poker with? Who else would give him unnecessarily long responses to yes or no questions? He and Ezra hadn't been real close to start off, and in fact it had taken them a while to open up to each other, but now he didn't know what he'd do without Ezra around. He was a part of their odd little family, and without him, it would be incomplete.

It seemed like several hours before the doctor finally came out, "Ezra Standish's family?" he asked.

The surprised look on the doctor's face almost made Josiah smile as all six of them stood up.

"Family by blood?" the doctor asked.

"We're all he's got; I'm listed as his next of kin in the file if you check." Chris said impatiently.

The doctor nodded, holding up a hand to appease them, "First off, Mr. Standish is stable at the moment. We had to rush him into surgery to deal with a punctured lung he suffered from one of his broken ribs. It'll be sore for a while, and he shouldn't do anything strenuous, but he'll make a full recovery from that."

"So he's alright?" JD demanded.

"No, in fact he's far from alright, but as I said he's stable. He was suffering from the onsets of hypothermia when you brought him in, warming him up was a problem, we didn't want to damage the lung any more. He also had three other cracked ribs, a severe concussion, and the skin on the bottom of his foot had to be cut away to prevent infection, and then we had to graft some skin in its place."

Nathan's mouth hung open, and then he went on to talk to the doctor in medical jargon, leaving the others just staring.

"Doc," Vin interrupted before Chris lost it, "Can we see 'im?"

"Sure, but I can't guarantee he'll be awake," the doctor said as he led them to the room.

Chris stopped them outside of the room, and turned to them, a very serious look on his face.

"We have to be here when he wakes up, so he knows we're here for him," he said gravely, "but once he wakes up, we are going to find out who did this. Someone will stay with him at all times, the others will hunt whatever bastard that did this down."

When they entered the room, those who had not seen the man let out a small groan.

"Damn Ez, looks like someone done hit you with a truck!" Buck murmured as he took a seat next to the bed.

Vin took the other side, and Josiah, Nathan and JD pulled up chairs close to the bed. Chris simply stood in the back of the room, standing watch over his men, eyes never leaving the deathly pale face on the bed.

He would find out who'd done this, whatever it took. He'd spoken with D.A. Travis when they'd first brought Ezra in, and the man had agreed that there would be an investigation. But he had told Chris that another team would look into it. Chris had told him what he could do with that suggestion. He was not about to let someone else find the person who'd hurt Ezra. It would have been that way with anyone. No one hurt his team and got away with it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: Next Chapter! Yay! It'll start coming together now. Enjoy it. And thank you to all of you who have reviewed. You are awesome.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Magnificent Seven.**

When Ezra finally did come to, he did indeed feel as though he had been hit by a truck. He was also a little bit unnerved to find that his room was filled with people, but not just any people. His teammates, all of them. Every last one had crammed himself into the room and into any available space around him. A small smile touched his lips, as he looked blearily at his coworkers, his friends.

Buck was sprawled out across his chair, on leg propped up one JD armrest, the other on Ezra's bed; his eyes were closed and he was snoring slightly. JD was curled into his chair, legs tucked underneath him, leaning on the armrest opposite of Buck's foot, staring sleepily out the window. Vin was sitting on the other side of his bed, head down against his chest, arms folded. He was asleep.

Josiah was sitting in a chair a little bit further from the bed, reading the book in his lap intently. Ezra vaguely wondered what Josiah was reading, but brushed the thought aside for later. His eyes fell upon Nathan next, who was sitting at the foot of his bed, nose buried in what looked suspiciously like his medical chart.

He scanned the room for Chris, and found him sitting in a chair at the back of the room, using his foot against the door as leverage to prop the chair up on two legs; he was surprised to find Chris staring right at him. Ezra gave him what he hoped to be a smile, but his lips were so dry and cracked he could not be sure.

Chris's face immediately softened into a look of immense relief. "You're awake," he said softly.

JD blinked over at them and then a smile broke out on his face, and he smacked Buck's leg and Buck jerked awake, "What?" he gasped.

"Ezra's awake!" he gasped.

Ezra tried to point out that this was obvious, but discovered his voice wasn't cooperating. "Water," he rasped.

Everyone scrambled to do as he had asked, and it was Nathan who ended up with the water, "Now take it slowly," he warned.

Ezra drank greedily, but slowly, and then sank back into the fluffed up pillows behind him, wincing, he wasn't terribly fond of hospitals. He looked at Nathan as innocently as possible, "When can I…?"

Nathan's scowl cut him off mid-sentence. "You just got IN here, it's going to be a while. Now…"

Before Nathan could ask him a question about how he was feeling, Chris had pushed way through them so he was right next to the bed, "What happened Ez?" he asked sternly.

Ezra looked up at Chris in surprise, and blinked. "You don't know? Mr…Chris I'm quite certain it's been all over the news for the past- how long was I gone?"

"The last time we saw you was Friday," Vin told him.

Ezra gave him a blank look, "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Oh, I guess you wouldn't know huh? That's weird," Vin replied innocently.

"Not really Mr. Tanner, I was stuck in the middle of nowhere with one shoe and no phone." Ezra said with a roll of his eyes.

Vin shrugged in response, a smile crossing his face as he looked at his friend. "It's Wednesday."

Ezra's eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Really? How did I survive all on my own in the middle of nowhere?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Nathan grumbled, "You can't so much as open an envelope without getting a severe paper cut."

"What I'D like to know," Chris jumped in agitatedly, "is what happened?"

Ezra looked at him, and sighed. "It was early morning on Saturday and I had just left my humble abode to the grocery store around the corner and spend what was left of my meager winnings from the night before (there was a groan at this reminder, as Ezra had cleaned them all out during a game of poker the previous night at the Saloon) on provisions. When I arrived, there was a bit of a predicament."

Chris frowned, something about that story sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Ezra continued after a short look around the room, "I entered the fine establishment in the midst of a robbery. When I had joined my fellow hostages against the back wall, I noticed that one of them was quite familiar to me- the amateurs did not bother with masks- in fact, I'm quite sure you would recognize him yourselves. We arrested the man's brother four months ago, Carl Gordon."

Chris's eyes widened in surprise, "Billy Gordon was robbing your grocery store?"

Ezra nodded, and all of a sudden he started coughing. It was a deep, hacking cough, and he couldn't stop. A frightened look crossed JD's face when he noticed the blood that Ezra was coughing up. With Ezra's waking up, it was almost as if he'd forgotten that he was sick. The coughs were a terrible reminder.

Nathan leaned out in the hall to yell for help before bringing the water cup to his lips steadily, leaning him forward so the liquid would go through. He quickly stepped out of the way as the doctor entered the room and made his way to the patient.

"I'm sorry, but you'll all have to leave now. I'll keep you updated, but you can't be here at the moment." a nurse said, pushing them all out of the room, even withstanding Chris's glare. With that, the door had been closed and they were left staring at it in surprise.

Their last look at Ezra was of him doubled over in agony, the various machines around him whirring angrily. They stood in the hallway for several moments.

"What now Chris?" Buck asked in a steely tone. If you didn't know Buck, you might have thought he didn't care about what he had just seen. But these men knew better, Buck wore his heart on his sleeve, and he was doing all he could to contain himself.

Chris took a deep breath.

"Vin, you stay here, keep us updated. Buck, you and JD go back to the office to see what you can find out about Billy Gordon and his brother. Nathan, I want you to go back to the coroner's office and find out whose body that really was. Josiah," he paused, "you come with me."

There was a moment of silence as they all looked at him, for something. He could see it in their eyes, they wanted his reassurance that it would all be okay. Well he couldn't give it to them, he wasn't a fortune teller. He desperately wanted to, but how could he tell them that when he was having a hard time convincing himself? So he did what he did best, avoided the subject and kept them on their toes.

"What are you all waiting for?" he barked, "A Scooby snack? Well I'm fresh out, now get going."


	7. in between the chapters chap

**AN: OK! So, I was going to post this last week, BUT then the story started taking a different direction and I wasn't sure what I wanted to post, so here is and IN-BETWEEN the chapters mini chapter, just so you're not all completely in suspense. :-)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. **

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It had been about four hours since they had all been kicked out of Ezra's hospital room, and Vin had not since been let back in, but Ezra was still unconscious. Chris hadn't called him yet, but he wasn't worried. He had a hunch about where Chris and Josiah had gone. He would bet anything that they had gone take over the case from the local PD, who were still probably investigating the robbery, and that afterwards, he would be visiting Carl Gordon in the state prison. Unsure how exactly this would help Ezra, Vin refrained from calling and asking. Chris did things in his own way, and who was he to question that? The man had never let them down before, and he wasn't going to start now.

Vin hated sitting around with nothing other to do than twiddle his thumbs. He wanted to get to the bottom of things. He had called Buck to see how his and JD's information search was going, and Buck had told him that Carl Gordon had been Billy Gordon's only living relative, and that when he'd been sent to jail, it must have been a stressor for the young boy, as he'd never even had a speeding ticket before a month ago. And then, all of a sudden, small things started popping up; shoplifting, public indecency, starting fights, carrying a gun without a permit, the works. They all assumed that the grocery store robbery that Ezra had been in was just another in a long string of crime sprees.

Nathan had called too, to check on the status of Ezra. He was working with the coroner on re-examining the body. He informed Vin that Chris's mistake was one that any one of them would have made unless they had closely examined the body. It seemed that the dead man's body type, height and build was very similar to Ezra's. They were also running DNA and Blood samples through the available databases to get a positive ID.

It was at this time, when he was trying to put all the pieces together, that a doctor had finally come out to inform him of Ezra's status. He was on his feet in an instant, eyes locking on to the doctor's, a worried expression on his face.

"How is he?" he inquired, the deep Texan accent in his voice thickening with his worry.

The slight smile that broke out on the doctor's face was enough to put Vin's worries to rest; Ezra would be just fine.

"He'll be fine Mr. Tanner, we had to rush him into surgery once more, because the punctured lung was a bit more troublesome than we thought, it collapsed on us, he's resting comfortably- well, as comfortably as a man in his condition can rest, in his room. You're welcome to sit with him now, but he won't wake up for a while so I might also suggest going to get cleaned up and a maybe a bite to eat."

Vin shook his head, "No, I reckon I'll just stay with him until the rest of our friends get back…"

The Doctor held up his hand, "Mr. Tanner, I insist, at least go down to the cafeteria and get something to eat. You've been down here for the past 4 hours alone, and several hours before that with the rest of your teammates. You can care more than anything in the world, Mr. Tanner, but passing out from exhaustion and lack of nourishment won't do Mr. Standish any good."

Vin looked hesitant.

"Come on," the doctor coaxed, placing a hand on his shoulder, "take it from a medical professional. And, if it makes you feel better, I'll make sure a nurse stops in to take check on him every now and again, alright?"

Vin sighed and nodded, "Alright doc, I do have to make some calls to the others, and I suppose I could do with a cup of coffee."

"Good man, see you back here in no less than an hour." The doctor ordered.

Vin snorted as he began his trek down to the cafeteria, stopping to momentarily peek into Ezra's room and see that he really was alright, before heading down, taking his cell phone out on the way.


End file.
